


Exhausted are the feet that carry the world

by KelpieChaos



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mild Foot Kink, They're both just So Sappy, Yusuke's weird and Akira likes him that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-18 12:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20639108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelpieChaos/pseuds/KelpieChaos
Summary: Some days in Mementos are longer than others, and this had been one of them. Everyone was exhausted, especially Akira. Good thing Yusuke was willing to help his tired leader back home.





	Exhausted are the feet that carry the world

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxjar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxjar/gifts).

Akira’s feet were killing him. They were 42 floors deep into Mementos, and had fought the entire way. They were looking for treasure to sell, so no quick Monabus to get them deep fast. He wasn’t the only one whose feet hurt; he could tell. He’d caught Futaba and Ann both trying to stretch out cramps at the last rest floor, and Ryuji was starting to limp. They wouldn’t be able to go much further. Hopefully, there would be a rest floor soon. They’d gathered enough treasure, and it wasn’t worth risking a fight they couldn’t win from exhaustion just for a few more trinkets.

Two floors later and they were in luck. Collapsing onto the benches, he couldn’t help but groan. His heartbeat throbbed in the soles of his feet. Taking his weight off them hurt, and he wasn’t looking forwards to standing back up. Makoto and Haru were slumped against each other on the floor, Morgana stretched out across their laps. Yusuke, somehow, was still on his feet, shifting back and forth. His tail seemed to wag with his motions, making him look like an excited dog. Fox. Whatever.

“Are we not continuing?”

Akira only knew Yusuke was serious because he was looking at him. Yusuke’s honest confusion was painted all over his face.

“Eff’s sake, Fox, aren’t you tired?” Disbelief filled Ryuji’s voice. Akira watched as Yusuke just blinked at him.

“Should I be?” One hand went up to his face. Quiet consideration dampened his motions. “I suppose I’ve been too distracted by the difference in architecture and aura of each section as we’ve descended to notice. Did you see how the colors darkened and muddied as we’ve gone? The walls are covered more by the fascinatingly realistic veins now as well.”

He hadn’t noticed, not really. Just that it got creepier the deeper they were. Trust Yusuke to still get distracted by the architecture as they’ve been fighting. Nonetheless, everyone else looked exhausted. It was definitely time to head back.

“Mona, can you get us out of here?” His voice wasn’t quite Joker’s, too tired to command the way he’d been doing in battle.

Groaning, Morgana rolled off the girls’ laps. “Yeah, okay. I want to go home. You better get me sushi for this, since you all get to rest up while I get us back.”

“If you wouldn’t mind coming home with me, I’m sure I could provide you some.” Haru patted herself off as she stood.

“Yeah! You’re the best, Noir!” With a poof, and a loud cheer, Morgana transformed back into a bus. “Let’s go! I want tuna!”

Makoto took the driver’s seat, and Akira didn’t even consider offering to drive instead. The idea of having to press the gas and brake pedals was tears worthy. His feet felt like they were swollen four times their normal size, pinching and squished in his boots. All he wanted was to get home and not have to move ever again.

Yusuke climbed in next to him. He settled close enough that Akira could feel his body heat, and he couldn’t resist slumping closer. Surely Yusuke wouldn’t mind. He just needed to close his eyes for a second and try to rest a bit. Distantly, he felt his face squish against something, felt it move in response. Suddenly much more comfortable, he drifted, not awake, not quite asleep, against his teammate’s warmth.

The next thing he knew, he was being gently urged up, propped up by someone. Muttering, he tried to stand on his own, but sharp pain raced through his feet. He hissed a sharp breath in, and would have fallen if that same person hadn’t caught him. Yusuke’s low voice murmured next to him, shushing him and asking if he was okay.

Akira grit his teeth and nodded, letting Yusuke help him out of the Mona-mobile. Yusuke took his weight like it was nothing, bracing most of it against his slender frame.

“I shall assist you home, Akira. You’re much too tired, and hurt, to do it yourself.”

He certainly wasn’t going to refuse that offer. Nodding, he let Yusuke pull him forwards, knives pricking his soles with each step. This was going to be a long trip.

* * *

Yusuke was obviously trying to put him on his bed gently. Akira let himself flop forwards. He glasses crushed uncomfortably against his nose and cheeks, and he couldn’t really breathe, but if he’d ever been more comfortable before in his life then he couldn’t remember it. Yusuke made a distressed noise behind him.

“Akira! Your shoes are still on! You’ll get the bed filthy.”

Sharp tugs pulled on Akira’s heel, and he lifted one foot, then the other, to let his shoes be pulled off. The floor creaked under Yusuke’s steps, and then two thuds as he dropped them where Akira usually left them. More creaking, then careful hands rolled him over. A small frown marred Yusuke’s normally relaxed face; he obviously didn’t like Akira’s apathetic behavior. He reached for his crooked black frames. Akira raise his head, tried to help a little. He got a small smile for the effort.

The frames clicked as they were folded and placed on the desk. Letting his eyes drift shut, Akira just listed as Yusuke dug around in his drawers. A couple minutes later, the noises stopped and the drawer dragged closed. Steps creaked down the stairs again. Akira could make out Yusuke and Sojiro’s voices, but not what they were saying. The click of the restroom door, then footsteps came up the stairs. They crossed to him, and fabric shuffled.

A touch to his ankle made him jump. Yusuke was pulling his socks off, rolling up his pants with deft motions. Akira propped himself up onto his elbows. Yusuke had sat by his feet, a bottle of lotion next to him. Focus drew the lines of his face sharp, but they relaxed when he met Akira’s eyes.

“What are you doing?” The question was slow, curious and tired.

Yusuke blinked, looking down at his bare feet then back to him. “Is that not obvious? I shall give you a foot massage.

Bemused, Akira tilted his head. “Why though?”

“Why? Because you work hard for us and are in pain now. Pain that I can help ease.” He shook his head, dismissing the issue. “Scooch down, please. You’re too far up the bed to get the right angle.” A couple light tugs on his ankles underscored the request.

Wriggling, Akira followed the tugs until they stopped. A couple more rolls of his pants, and apparently Yusuke was satisfied. The lotion was cold, but Yusuke’s hands were warm. His touch was firm but delicate, fingertips tracing along the skin and pressing into sore muscles. The pressure hurt, but in a good way. He could feel the tension disappearing, nerves being soothed and relaxed back to calm. Long strokes stretched the muscles, and he sighed as the pain bled out.

Akira watched Yusuke work, eyes half closed with pleasure and exhaustion. Yusuke was entirely focused on his hands. A small crease had formed between his eyebrows, the rest of his face smooth and loose. He looked like when he was sketching. The same focus took him when he was trying to find the perfect lines to capture his ideas. His hands flowed with the same sure motions now as when pencil or paintbrush. Slowly, they drifted to a stop. Yusuke just held his foot, their breaths quiet in the silence of the attic. Heartbeats passed, but Akira couldn’t interrupt. There was something in the air, something that was asking him to wait, to let Yusuke act as he would.

Nearly holding his breath, he watched as Yusuke tipped forwards, leant down almost in slow motion. He pressed his lips just above his toes. Hot breath drifted over Akira’s skin, sending goosebumps racing along his body.

“Yusuke?” The name was barely said, escaping out of him without his permission.

Yusuke’s response was quiet, low voice rumbling against him. “I love your feet.”

Akira felt his breath hitch.

“Faithfully they serve you, carrying you through life and bearing your weight as you then guide us with you.” His forehead was pressed against Akira’s ankle, and he could feel Yusuke’s lips brush against his skin as he spoke. “And yet, they are graceful, bones long and fine, skin soft and supple. A masterpiece of beauty and strength.” He released that food and reached for the other, fingers pressing in to give the same treatment to still sore muscles. Akira, silent, let him. Each touch sent tingling sensation up his leg, and his heart pounded in his chest. Yusuke seemed to notice no difference, but to Akira it only barely seemed the same thing. Abruptly more awake, he watched as Yusuke nearly worshipped his foot with each motion. The heat of his hands bled into his skin, into his blood.

A stubborn knot releasing tore a moan from his throat. The sound was low and saturated with pleasure. Fire raced across his cheeks, and Akira hid behind one hand. Horrified, he realized that Yusuke’s hands had frozen, and that there was no way to hide the sudden problem in his pants. Not with Yusuke’s face barely three feet from his hips.

Slowly, Yusuke started moving again. Maybe he’d just ignore it? Akira hoped so. He’d never been more embarrassed in his life. He fell backwards on his bed, staring up at his ceiling as the massage continued. The plastic stars he’d gotten from Yusuke were lightly glowing in the dimness of the evening. How many times had he lain here and remembered that day? Yusuke had been so enthralled by the show, but Akira hadn’t seen a second of it, too busy watching the play of emotions across Yusuke’s face. He’d been more beautiful than any star, more stunning than all the galaxies in the universe.

And he’d never given Akira any reason to think that he returned his feelings. Until now. Why else would he be doing this? Have kissed his foot and said what he did?

Fingers drifting up the back of his leg snapped him out of his thoughts. They teased under the rolled cuff of his pants, smoothed along the hair before returning to his foot. He propped himself up just in time to watch Yusuke press another kiss to his skin, right where foot met ankle. His breath hitched, and Yusuke met his eyes for the briefest of moments. A faint flush covered his cheeks, lashes dark against his skin.

Akira had never seen anything more exquisite. In a haze, he reached for Yusuke, cupping his jaw. He drew him up, felt as Yusuke’s hands trailed up his legs to brace themselves against his hips. Paused, close enough for their breaths to entwine. Watched from under lowered eyelids as Yusuke’s lashes fluttered. Finally, _finally_, pulled him in.

His lips were chapped, but softer than rose petals. A moment, frozen in hope and fear, then they separated as a sigh was released against Akira’s mouth. Yusuke melted forwards, trusting his balance to Akira.

Resolve burned in his chest as Akira cradled him closer. He’d never let Yusuke fall. He’d be there, supporting him for the rest of their lives, if only Yusuke would let him.

One hand slid off his hip, settled between his legs. He gasped into the kiss, hips bucking into the pressure with no conscious command. Their kiss broke on Yusuke’s smile, as he pulled away only far enough to trail his lips along Akira’s jaw. Warm air washed over his skin as Yusuke breathed, his hand moving with his hips. Akira’s own hands had moved, gripping Yusuke’s shoulders to hold them steady.

Fingertips dipped under his pants, and Akira nearly sobbed. Just this, and already he was drowning. If he was dreaming, let him never wake.

“Beautiful, Akira.” The words hummed against his throat, and all he could do was tip his head back, expose himself further to the transcendent things this breathtaking boy was giving him.

The fingertips tugged, and Akira let them maneuver his pants from him. Gently, the returned, tracing over the lines of his underwear. Akira let them take those too. Once again, they returned, drifting up his stomach. His shirt bunched up atop them, and he let them lift it off him as well.

Yusuke pressed kisses down his chest, hesitating over his sternum to feel the beat of his heart. It was pounding, the rhythm drowning Akira’s thoughts and ringing in his ears. He shuddered as Yusuke drew the lines of his muscles in delicate touch, his lips falling lower and lower.

His tongue dipped into his bellybutton at the same time thumbs dragged against his nipples and Akira nearly came. Hot pleasure burned through him. His hands pulled fretfully at Yusuke’s shirt as Yusuke’s low chuckle filled the room. His thumbs continued to tease as his mouth continued down. He pressed a wet kiss to the base of Akira’s cock, and all he could do was whine in response. Hot wet dragged up it. Akira was glad for the fabric in his hands, else he’d be afraid of drawing blood with how tight he clutched to Yusuke.

A small eternity passed, filled with the sound of his rushing blood and heaving breath. Yusuke dragged his tongue across his cockhead, lapping over his slit like he needed every drop weeping out from it. A stifled shriek ripped itself out of Akira. He curled tight over Yusuke’s head, legs twitching tight then open, tight then open as fire burned through his veins. Yusuke’s hands smoothed down his sides, steading him. One hand drifted to wrap itself around his cock, tugging lightly as Yusuke continued playing with his slit. The other dragged down his leg. It traced the muscles of his thigh, the bones of his knee, the curve of his shin. Fingertips pressed into his Achilles, skated up his calf then back down. Circled around his ankle and traced the bones of his foot.

Akira gasped as Yusuke moved back, his hand falling still. He didn’t go far, caged by Akira’s body as he was, just far enough that he could settle the pad of his foot between his legs. A shiver ripped through him, his hips jumping forwards. He was hard under Akira’s foot, a wet spot forming under his toes. Yusuke cradled his ankle, holding his foot in place, as he leaned back in, greedily taking his cock in his mouth. His tongue curled around the head, and Akira fought not to lose it immediately. He could feel Yusuke’s cock practically pulsing against him. Yusuke’s mouth was hot and wet and desperate. Yusuke’s hands were soft yet demanding, one stroking what his mouth couldn’t take and the other holding Akira’s foot just where he wanted it.

Shaking, choking on moans, clutching Yusuke’s shirt nearly hard enough to rip it, Akira held on by determination alone. Pleasure was wrecking him, ripping nerves and repairing them with live wires. Every touch, every move, felt like fire burning him, only smothered by the spiraling desire for more.

Yusuke pulled back, hand unevenly flying on Akira’s cock, tongue dipping into his slit. The uncomfortable stretch ripped through him, discomfort and pleasure twining together until they were one and the same. Akira twisted in place, unknowing if he was trying to get closer to away.

Pure sensation built in him, layered over itself again and again and again until he couldn’t tell what it was, just that he never wanted it to stop. Yusuke licked over him again, and the tension exploded through him like wildfire. Distantly, he heard himself brokenly moan. Yusuke echoed him, swallowing his come and frantically thrusting against his foot. His hips stuttered, jumped, his head falling against Akira’s thigh and letting his come decorate the side of his face. Groaning, he tensed, hand crushingly tight on his ankle. Tremors rocked him, then, all at one, he fell forwards, all of his weight against Akira. Warm wetness seeped through his pants.

Gracelessly, Akira let himself plop onto the floor next to him. He pulled him into a breathless kiss, tasted his own come on Yusuke’s lips. He kissed him deeper, chasing the taste and savoring Yusuke’s small noises.

Long minutes later, he sighed, pressed their foreheads together just to look at Yusuke. He was flushed, pink dusted across his cheeks and nose, lips red and swollen. His grey eyes, so close in color to his own, were bright. Akira watched as he blinked, as his eyes dropped down to his lips then back up. Smiling, Akira pressed their lips together again. His hand cupped Yusuke’s cheek, come tacky against his fingertips as it smeared across skin.

He pulled back again. Carefully wiping at the come, he considered the boy in front of him. “Hey, Yusuke.” The words were quiet, meant only for the precious boy breaths away from him. “I love you.”

Yusuke smiled at him, small but with more joy than Akira thought possible for one person to contain. “As I love you, Akira,” he murmured, just as quiet.

Akira nodded, dumb in the face of their confessions. Embarrassed, he shoved himself to his feet. He had spare pajamas Yusuke could borrow once they’d cleaned up. Using the pants he shed to wipe the worst of come off Yusuke’s face, then his own hands, Akira made his offer: bathhouse then bed. There was enough room on his futon if they squished.

A murmur of agreement from Yusuke, a pair of not hideously gross pants, and two sets of fresh pajamas later, and off they were.

Akira didn’t even spare a thought to his newly painless feet. He had more important things to think about, like how soft Yusuke’s hand was in his own.


End file.
